A roiling dusty mass of gelatinous cartoon figures rolled into one steaming heap of roughhousery. This was the way football was MEANT to be played! But ol' 49, being the killjoy we're all familiar with, wants to know where the football is. No matter that his back is broken, or that he's sandwiched between a feather boa and a U.S AIR FORCE parachute. No, goddamnit. He wants to know where the ball is.
Little does he know the very disturbing truth. Greg is in the process of deep-throating the ball. And with no hands! Or dignity!
Actually, this image is rather awesome. Maybe it could be the logo for my Fantasy Football Team?
Next Week: Behind the Astroturf Door.
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